Never Plan to be Alone
by Tanya Tsuki
Summary: It was just supposed to be Canada and Ukraine alone on Christmas. Their families were not invited, so why did they have to show up? Canada/Ukraine and America/Belarus


"Canada, are you sure this is going to be ok with your family?" Ukraine asked, again, as they stood outside Canada's door.

"Of course," Canada said absently, fumbling with his keys. "They never remember me, anyway. They aren't going to mind if I spend a Christmas with my—my girlfriend." He almost dropped the keys when he swung around to the door to hide his blush.

Ukraine chuckled and picked up her bags when Canada pushed the door open.

"No, no. Let me take those for you. You are my guest," he said in a rush, reaching over to grab my bags.

"Of course. How very gentlemanly of you." Ukraine let go of the bags and carefully stepped past Canada and into the lit entranceway.

"That's odd," Canada muttered, dragging one of the suitcases behind him. "I don't remember leaving the lights on. Did you turn them on when we came in?"

"No."

"…Oh."

Canada and Ukraine stood in the entrance hall awkwardly looking at one another.

"I should go see why it's on, eh?"

"I'll come with you."

Canada nodded and together they stepped into the living room, stopping dead in the doorway.

"A-america?" Canada choked out at the same time Ukraine exclaimed "Sister!"

There, sitting on the couch, was America who appeared to be trying to chat the ear off Belarus. Upon hearing Canada and Ukraine, his babble cut off and he jumped up from the couch, running to give Canada a hug.

"Merry Christmas bro!"

America moved to give Ukraine a kiss on the cheek, ignoring both the threatening growl coming from Belarus' direction and Canada's question of "What are you doing here?"

"Come on, Bela and—"

"Belarus. I've asked you not to shorten my name."

"Belarus and I made dinner and there's hot chocolate just waiting to be made. We weren't sure when you two would be back from the airport so it's all stuff that can be easily heated up," America continued before throwing his arm around Canada's shoulder and leading him towards the kitchen.

"America," Canada said again, forcefully this time.

"Whaaaaat?" America whined, moving away from Canada and began to dig in the refrigerator.

"Why are you here?"

"So, we made chicken and urk—"

America was cut off by Canada's sudden grip on his collar. "Why. Are. You. Here? Me and Ukraine were supposed to have a calm, _quiet_ Christmas. Alone. Just us two."

"Geez, lighten up some, bro," America laughed weakly, pulling Canada's hand away. "If you must know, it's Russia, ok?"

Canada raised an eyebrow. "Russia?"

"Yeah, he was all upset that, like, Belarus wanted to spend Christmas with _me_ and then when he found out Ukraine was with _you_ he got all crazy—not that that's anything out of the ordinary—and I figured since hardly anyone remembers you, we'd just come and hang out with you for Christmas. Then, if Russia shows up, it'll be four of us against him, you know?" He pulled a container out of the fridge. "Now, chicken?"

"Russia…_knows_?" Canada hissed, closing the kitchen door behind him. "And you came _here_? Are you mad?"

"Well, it was either here or go bug England or France. And you know how they get around the holidays." America appeared unconcerned as he dumped the chicken onto a pan. "Besides, we like hanging out together. We're brothers. They're sisters. Win-win."

"You could have asked before breaking into my house!"

"I didn't break in. The key was under the doormat."

Canada sighed and pushed America out of the way. If he was stuck eating dinner with him, he might as well be the one to finish making it.

* * *

"Dinner is served." Canada laid a plate down in front of Ukraine with a flourish, sending his best smile her way. Or, what he hoped was his best smile. It was most likely a little weak and definitely nowhere near as bright as the beaming America was currently doing on the other side of the table.

"Oh, Canada, this looks lovely, thank you," Ukraine said quietly, looking up and matching Canada's smile and causing him to blush.

"You're welcome."

They began eating together in an awkward silence that was broken suddenly by a loud pounding at the front door.

"America, who else did you invite?"

America frowned. "No one. Who else did you invite?'

"No one. Not even you!"

"Oh."

The pounding continued.

"Canada, maybe you should answer it?" Ukraine suggested softly.

"I found the key!" They heard a distinctly British voice yell.

"Good to know you aren't completely useless, _Angleterre_."

"Me?"

"Hey now, it's Christmas Eve! No fighting!"

"Shut up, Australia!"

"England, be nice!"

"Seychelles, you too?"

"Let us stop fighting and just enter the house, da?"

"No one asked you, Russia!"

The four still sitting in the dining room paled.

"It's…a family reunion, " Canada moaned, dropping his head onto the table as the door burst open and the new arrivals flooded in.

Later that night, after the majority of Canada's house had been destroyed ("redecorated" as France had insisted), every single one of his guest rooms and couches had been claimed by at least one body. Unable to sleep, he trudged into the kitchen where his head once again made friends with the table.

"This is not how I had imagined things to happen," he groaned into the table.

"What did you imagine, Canada?" a voice from the doorway inquired. Canada's head shot up and took in the sight Ukraine, standing in the doorway in all her tousle-haired and white robed beauty.

"Erm, nothing, it's—it's silly," he muttered, dropping his head again.

"If you say so." She sounded unconvinced but let the subject drop, instead moving into the kitchen and taking a seat next to Canada. "Merry Christmas," she told him, leaning over and giving him a quick peck on the cheek.

"I'm sorry."

Ukraine pulled back in surprise. That had not been the response she had expected. "For what?"

"This Christmas was just supposed to be me and you. You know, our first Christmas together as—as a couple and—"

"—Canada," Ukraine interrupted, placing her hand over his. "They're our family. We never should have expected to get away from them. Besides, we're still here together, and it wasn't all bad. Remember when Seychelles accidentally slapped Australia? That was kind of funny. Families make the holidays brighter."

"I guess," Canada said miserably, lifting his head off the table. "I still feel bad about it, though."

Ukraine smiled and shook her head. "Don't. Because they all plan to leave on the twenty-sixth. I'm staying until my second Christmas on January seventh. We'll have our first Christmas alone then, ok?"

"Sounds like a plan to me."


End file.
